


Children of a Ghost

by orphan_account



Series: How They Came to Be [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Babies, Coping, Creation, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Lugia Missing Ho-Oh, M/M, Magic, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 22:06:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8344561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: There was an unspoken command. Keep them. They're yours. They're his.





	

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JDj8f87HoU8 - I listened to this while writing, so you might feel a bit more immersed if you listened to this while you read. As always thank you everyone for your support.

The glow of the sun peeking out from underneath the sheet of thick storm ridden clouds was faint this morning, but still a welcome sight. Against the marble surface of the hall's floor it bounced and refracted, making the gold brass-like colour come to life. It was a rare occasion to have the beams burn through the masses so close to winter, and clever creatures would be taking advantage of the warmth before the clouds closed in and the storms predicted for the late afternoon destroyed the serene calm achieved here.

 

On the sidelines, close to his makeshift throne, sat the original one, hooves gently clicking on the floor as he impatiently awaited the arrival of three legends in particular. Against his side, three fluffed up forms pressed against the bigger legend persistently, sapping any body heat they could. It took every last ounce of strength in the regal legend's body to not press his muzzle to their skinny frames and encourage them to keep close. Such a protective gesture would mean he was growing attached, and an accusation like that would ruin his pure intentions. Getting close to them was simply out of the question.

 

Still, as a father to his young he couldn't stop his dappled gold tail sweeping the leaf crumbs away from the squeaking babes. He tried his best to surround the little ones with safety and promise of good health. He may not be able to lick their cheeks in affection, but he would still be that eternal beacon of security.

 

The temptation captured his attention for a good minute before he remembered why he was even awake at such an early hour. Even under the promise of daybreak the hall was still brimming with the unknown evil beyond the protection of Arceus' magic. As if to emphasize this point, a bundle of cold and paralyzing mist crept into the legend's line of sight. It swirled and laughed, filling the hall with the sort of gloom one would only find miles away from here.

 

A tendril of it evaporated, only to appear next to the beast's flank. Absentmindedly, the speckled tail flicked it away, returning back to the tiny birds when the drastic change in temperature caused them to cry. A pair of dictating and firm eyes inspected the mist, trying to affirm if it was nature running its course by trying to breathe life into the new youth, or something else. The portal was only a few feet away, and the paranoia gripped the protector with fierce claws.

 

But then, it was gone. The sharp talon-like claw had vanished and withered until all that remained was a memory. A ghost. Perhaps from another world- maybe a sign? Or maybe the beacon was going mad after a night of little sleep. The dream goddess Cresselia would need to have an audience with him before his paranoid voices grew to be any louder. The unmeasurable pain was becoming unbearable to lift with his own two shoulders.

 

He soon found the departure of the shadows to be provoked by a motion from the mouth of the cave. Eyes glistening, he looked up, only to see no monster crawling the pillars, but three fairy bodies almost as small as the ones glued to his side. Upon the knowledge that the youths would not be hurt, the legend let out a constricted breath and relented the sharp military-like stance of his tail, giving the small bodies a gasp of air cooled by the morning frost.

 

A flicker, and the tiniest fairy with a blue membrane-like body had wandered over, happy eyes greeting her leader with joy. The other two followed carefully behind, giving the tiniest nod of respect to the original one.

 

The blue creature circled its tipped tails around the second smallest babe, who appeared to have wandered out and pecked the spot where the fog was. Her red eyes looked hopeful, and if the protector didn't know any better he would assume she had seen the same shape he had witnessed.

 

In blissful abandon he ignored his imaginary rules about affection and nuzzled her pale translucent feathers, hearing the ghost of a giggle lost in her voice. "Did you see something, little one?" He questioned.

 

Curious eyes regarded him until the whisking tails of the fairy protectors proved to be more distracting. The guardian warmly chuckled as the three young ones followed the movements and twirling of the older legends, little beaks snapping at the red jewels encrusting the physical embodiment of their power.

 

"Thee did look spook'd Arceus," Azelf noted, her blue skin reflecting onto the surrounding hard surface, "Bid not me thee've been did attack." The strange tongue she spoke in was as troubling as ever to comprehend, leaving Arceus to pick up the pieces of what she had said.

 

"Oh nothing of the sort attacked me. There was some natural phenomenon that fed off of my paranoia. No more, no less." He cleared his throat, trying not to look too jittery.

 

The purple fairy known solely as Mesprit sighed as the blue shape of her sister swerved about. "Is yond so?" From her mouth escaped an innocent laugh topped with little concern. “‘Tis odd ‘f thee.”

 

He could still see the confusion of the yellow being, who had yet to speak. One long ear twitched as he continued, "I assumed the undertaker," He coughed out innocently. In an instant, all eyes were on him, some more irritated than others. "He's been frisky ever since he attacked me at Sendoff Spring, and I think he’s been trying to get revenge on me in any way he could.”

 

"Thou  _art_ getting paranoid. Prithee doth not assume the elements of this planet art attacking thee because of some fusty foe. Thee has't nay proof of t," All of them looked dismayed, and the great one couldn't blame them. The fallen angel, his former favourite, was their only companion - or at least the only legend they visited in the alternate dimension. The original one never understood why he let them keep in contact with the shame of his past, but he supposed it wasn’t something he could control. So long as the other remained in his dimension, he had no reason to interfere. 

 

That was, until now. Giratina was finding ways to mess with them from inside of his prison, and with children on the premises they couldn’t afford a lull in protection. Better to be paranoid than dead, he presumed.

 

But how to put it into words.

 

"It's not as simple as that Mesprit. I-... I just have to be careful," He glanced down at the chittering tri-coloured mass of downy feathers by his hooves, "For them." It was a miracle he had been able to extract the particles needed to re-create a God he never created, and the final product was too precious to risk. Giratina couldn’t, and wouldn’t, touch them.

 

Mesprit nudged her sisters aside, and floated down to be at eye-level with her leader. "Prithee jumpeth not to accusations. Beest joyous with the positives and behold not f'r a reasoneth to beest afraid. If 't be true t soothes thee, I shall speaketh to Giratina at which hour I visiteth the dist'rtion w'rld next moon cycleth Arceus-"

 

"No." The leader, Arceus, interrupted, his brisk and aged tone cutting through the magical echo of his subordinate's voice. "I am fine. I do not want to initiate conflict with him, nor give the devil a reason to strike."

 

Mesprit shook her head, tendrils loosely waving behind her like a sheet of silk. "That legend can heareth thee, and followeth thee wh'rev'r. Thee've madeth enow passive aggressive remarks to has't that gent as feisty as Lugia, and without the charm." The glowing eyes of hers lit up with mischievous sparkles, past tension forgotten.

 

Arceus cleared his throat. "Funny you should mention him." His white mane lazily rose, and with it the balls of feather levitated off of the creamy white surface leading up to his throne. The red female purred, while the other two siblings shrieked in terror, their two tiny beaks barely managing to make a sound. Out of instinct, the three fairies lunged forward to comfort them, but stopped with vigour once their leader silently pleaded for them to stop.

 

Mesprit nudged her blue sister, the brief murmur of "Azelf" leaving her colourful tongue. Azelf in turn made a nervous glance towards the bouquet of feathers and garnish belonging to Arceus, before her insightful eyes put together one missing piece of the puzzle. To humour her, Arceus reached out with his magic and plucked loose one multi-coloured feather from where it was nestled in the flowers, the prism-like protrusion glittering as it hit the light.

 

"Nay," A hidden voice shook with disgust, "Nay." The pale yellow sister, eyes closed firmly, made her way over to approach her leader. Had she not spoken up, her presence would have gone unnoticed. "Thee cannot. This shall only maketh that gent depress'd. Thee cannot"

 

"Uxie, I must." His voice trembled with emotion, trying not to think of the implications. Uxie was a thinker, one that dug deep into a problem and relented any self-control. A thought-breaker was the first word that came to his tongue, and the presence of the word brought him no peace of mind.

 

Tails slapping the tile with anger, Uxie leaned forward until the bridge of her forehead was an inch away from Arceus' own. "Lugia shall rebel, that gent shall breaketh. Thee shall beest his torment'r. P’rhaps that gent is m're liketh Giratina than thee bethink."

 

Fur bristling, Arceus raised his haunches and stood, eyes spitting venom. "I never want to hear you say that again. Believe me when I say I have the best intentions here." He swung his head at Mesprit, the being of emotion. "Tell me sisters, when was the last time you saw Lugia smile. No-, let's not start there; how about we go way back. When was the last time Lugia left his cave voluntarily to hunt or bask in the sunlight?"

 

The tone of his voice had an impact on the young birds, and from where he had unknowingly placed them on the ground they cried in fear at seeing their beacon angry. Like an arrow, Arceus shot over to their side in a graceful leap and did his best to silence them before they wore their voices out with crying. The tiny blue bird in particular leaned against his nostril for comfort and support. When he elicited an exhale of warm air she seemed to visually appreciate it.

 

"Arceus I'm not declaring yond thou art not a valorous example, I'm declaring yond what thou art doing shall has't s'rious consequences f'r the future. I'm not sure how much m're Lugia can taketh," Uxie pleaded, her monotone voice breaking its composure to force emotion down his throat.

 

"He is already broken Uxie. I'm just trying to put the pieces back." His hoof tapped the floor twice, the noise acting as a disruption from the tense atmosphere.

 

"Leadeth'r," Azelf started, "We knoweth not that gent. His kind. Those gents art not of our blood. With the pow'r that gent harbours this couldst turneth out to beest a lethal op'ration."

 

"Well I have no other choice," Arceus spat, trying to loosen the grip his guilt had on him. The possibility that Lugia would reject the kin was all too likely, though he hated to admit it. Maybe back two centuries ago the beast would have approached the idea of young with a signature twinkle in his amber pools, but now they would be dull, unwelcoming. Regardless of their background nothing would halt the tears, nor obliterate the pain. The only option would be to numb it, as Arceus had learned from his own experiences millions of years ago.

 

As the fairies mumbled and twirled like songbirds, he stole a glance at the female red bird, the one with a neck much longer than her siblings. Even though her eyes were a pastel blue reminiscent of luminous crystal, there was no mistaking the resemblance. Her creator must be peering at the world through those springs of fitting baby blue. If Lugia could see that, then maybe he wouldn't be tempted to reject her, nor smash her skull with a single blow as Palkia had dutifully predicted. All Arceus knew was that he had to try, for his friend, and his missing counterpart. They both deserved some kind of hope to grasp at, and if playing father was the way to go, then so be it.

 

"-ceus." Out of instinct, his head snapped up, surprised. Mesprit whispered something under her velvety breath, and it sounded suspiciously like a sarcastic comment. Arceus rose one eyebrow to reprimand her tongue, and craned both of his ears forward.

 

"Please repeat that."

 

"I wast simply going to asketh how thee did plan to receiveth Lugia to concur with such an absurd responsibility." Mesprit levitated down to his hooves so that she could peer at the babes.

 

"I think," Arceus clicked his tongue, "Lugia will know long before I ask. He may be troubled, but he has a good heart, as well as a soft spot for the youth." He prodded the closest bird, the yellow one with the spiky feathers.

 

"That gent doesn't has't the same heart of gold yond thee rememb'r. His heart is m're of a rust'd silv'r."

 

"Then imagine the babes as the solvent to loosen the rust and rejuvenate his being. This is the first step to healing, to progress. I want Lugia back." Uxie's mouth gaped like a fish, but she closed it, adding nothing to the conversation. The silence lulled any stray noises.

 

"I know what I'm doing, I know-" Arceus paused, collecting his thoughts. "I love them both  _so_  much. Please give me a chance to fix my mistake by not acting that night. It's the least I can do to bandage the wound."

 

Azelf shook her head. "T's not a wound, t's a scar."

 

Arceus said nothing in response, letting his silence determine the outcome of the talk. None of the fairies attempted to build on Azelf's thought, maybe because they knew they were beat. Lugia was an enigma after all, and years spent in isolation and corruption had made him impossible to crack. Try as they might, but they ultimately couldn't predict how the great beast would react to this.

 

"I'm not a future speaketh'r," Azelf remarked, almost as if she had read his thoughts, "I'm not Celebi 'r Dialga. I'm not sure how this shall playeth out."

 

"All I can sayeth f'r sure is yond Lugia hast suff'red, and that gent shall suff'r m're. Loss is the most sore condition to cope with, and if 't be true that gent chooses to beest high-lone then th'e is nothing we can doth," Mesprit continued, her jewels sparking aimlessly as the light from behind them faded under a musty gray cloud.

 

"I knoweth yond und'r diff'rent circumstances I wouldst applaudeth thy tenacity, but I'm only so knowledgeable Arceus. I still thanketh thee f'r being kind to Lugia aft'r all this timeth," Uxie spoke, voice firm but with a blurred edge of caution. "I adviseth yond thee doth not aught rash, lest thee wanteth to provoke Lugia into a fiteth of rage much liketh the one yond Ecruteak did face in the depressing decade."

 

Lifting the birds once again and settling them on his back, Arceus gave a curt nod to show his appreciation. All three of his subordinates were quick to reply with a nod of their own, two pairs of eyes sparkling. Even despite their worry and their contempt for Arceus' long lasting rivalry with their best friend, the fairies had long been looking into a solution for the depressed sea beast. Not even they knew how to handle such grief, and such a thought made anxiety drop to the bottom of Arceus' stomach.

 

He twisted his head around, letting his fur tickle the downy feathers of the newborns. Their tiny talons gripped onto Arceus' fur like a Flabébé to a moonflower, barely packing the strength needed. Mouth dry, Arceus cast a precautionary force-field around him as added protection in case one of the birds tried to fly off of his back while he was airborne.

 

 A normal legend would argue that a journey to a foreign country shouldn't be done until a child is six moons old, but it wasn't his responsibility to raise them. It was imperative they meet their caregiver right away, and that Arceus be there when it happened.

 

Head cocked, he leapt off of the edge nearest an old grainy stone pillar and felt the air caress his soft fur. His long neck blocked out the wind resistance the birds should have felt, but he could still feel their prickly claws slip and lose their weak grip. His back leg lifted itself up to nudge them back close to the wheel before he continued on.

 

A little drop of rain made its presence known, followed by another sibling raindrop that dripped down on one elongated ear. It flipped back, only managing to get hit again. He grunted.

 

The birds were having a moment of awe, stuck between love and hate. It turned into terror once one of them got hit by a rather peculiar drop and squeaked in shock. It did manage to pull another light hearted laugh from the guardian, pleased to see the beauty of youth after so long. Oh how he wished he could keep them as his own, train them to be more than children. It had been  _so long_.

 

Fortunately, his head jerked from side to side, dissipating the thought. He was the original one, he couldn't get envious. They weren't even his own children, they belonged to the skies. To take them from Lugia would be a crime beyond reason, maybe even the straw that broke the Camerupt's back.

 

His canter drifted above the sun kissed clouds that were dumping their sorrows onto Sinnoh. The farther they ran, the higher up they ascended, until the white cloud tufts tickled his joints. His fears of the birds trying to pluck at it were distinguished once he realized they were in fact afraid of the milky white wisp.

 

It was endearing, but crammed down more insecurities. His inner shadow beckoned forth the excuse that the tiny birds barely able to stand would never bear Lugia's critical treatment. They were everything he wasn't - afraid of things that couldn't and never would hurt them. Almost like-

 

Arceus swallowed. They were too much like their father. And at the same time, so different. Anyone that could take on Lugia as a counterpart and stand talon to talon with him deserved a few well earned points for bravery.

 

The clouds parted, and Arceus’ eyes were met with the rain drenched region of Johto. He wasn’t surprised to feel the morning drizzle rain down on his back harder than before, and grumbled as his meticulous fur soaked it up like a sponge and grew heavy. The same couldn’t be said for the birds. Their feathers, which had in another life been exposed to such rainfall for days at a time, found no resistance. It was almost like they were native to the region, built to withstand it. All the more reason to let them live here, where their “parents” did.

 

It didn’t take too long to cross over the region until the four found the west ocean, still a force to reckon with. The human settlements bordering it were bustling with excitement, unaware of what was about to take place. Even with such terrible living conditions, it seemed they found a way to keep moving on. In that way, they were better than their guardians. Arceus paused for merely a second, before he turned his view to the waters, and more importantly, the Whirl Islands.

 

The islands themselves were a collection of rocks Lugia had only brought up to the legendary council once or twice in his entire lifetime. Apparently there had been a war that took place only years after Ho-Oh and Lugia were birthed, and caused  _quite_  a commotion. Arceus’ knowledge on it remained limited though, as there was never a reason to bring it up in conversation.

 

The guardian descended below the gate of the clouds until his hooves cooled under the oncoming air. From there he could feel the embrace of the wind wrap around him as he moved closer and closer to the savage sea below. The impression of a watercolour painting was very much a reality, and had the birds not been squirming Arceus would have stopped to admire it. Sinnoh was not graced with such wild and uncontrollable oceans, and as a result they all rarely got to witness its true power. It was both a blessing and a curse, the perfect definition of balance.

 

After a good few minutes of surfing over the tides, Arceus finally started to see the silhouette of the first island. It was a jagged stone cutting into the depressing skies with terrible accuracy. Around the shape was a bed of moss and white moonflowers that disguised the incredibly dull reddish brown colours underneath. It looked so out of place here in the middle of nowhere, but make no mistake, it was meant to be distinguishable.

 

Upon closer inspection though, something was wrong. Arceus stopped in his tracks, cautiously giving the air a sniff. The leader could taste a metallic like scent that was a familiar stranger, and he soon came to the conclusion that there was a spell nearby. Eyes scanning his surroundings, Arceus waited patiently for any indication of where it was, knowing that entering one by mistake could be fatal. 

 

And then the tiny male saw it, a shimmer nearest the first island. It was so small that the leader’s cherry eyes barely caught wind of it, though the young’s fascination proved to be rather helpful. The illusive lines vanished, but what remained was a consensus that boggled his mind. It looked to be a shield coating the islands from inside, meant to keep outsiders from entering. Beneath such a tremendous force was a caster, and absorbing all that had happened left Arceus with both an intention and a reason. Lugia didn’t want visitors.

 

The original one refused to let a petty shield hold him back, and made quick use of the Mind Plate to switch his typing. An aura of power cloaked the white legend like a blanket and bled into his veins until his physical form had faded to match the new abilities. As if a switch had been turned on, the processes racing through his mind increased to terrifying amounts, fitting of most psychic types. With a better understanding of what functions the spell was set out to do, it didn’t take long for him to cast a counterspell that created a small opening he could manipulate. His body squeezed through the entrance with little guilt, and he closed the makeshift door behind his tail quickly, mindful of the young ones trying to touch the remaining circumference of the barrier. 

 

Arceus was not a fool, he knew that his tampering would set off alarm bells to Lugia, but he was quick to remind himself that if he had wanted the element of surprise he would have resorted to other methods.

 

It seemed to be the island the group had passed was Red Rock, as displayed by the crimson-like rock that was manifesting on the inside of the shield. Before, Arceus was under the impression that it was brown like any normal land mass, but the shield had been obscuring his view. It had also hidden the massive whirlpool that the Whirl Islands were named after, and demolished any distinct qualities the islands held. Perhaps to keep people from recognizing the Whirl Islands? It seemed unlikely, but then again, no one ever understood Lugia. That was his counterpart’s responsibility.

 

Mind boggled, Arceus scanned over his findings. Silver Rock Isle would be in the eastern direction if Red Rock was here, and Lugia’s throne of water and stone was only present in such a place. Thankfully, the fates had blessed the original one with good judgement that day, and he stumbled onto the other island just as quick as he had the first. 

 

This one was the beauty of all four islands, and the other three couldn’t hold a candle to what remained in place here. The landscape was a barrage of silver and gold, illuminated by the rain that was pouring buckets onto the island itself. One massive whirlpool raged on below the main entrance, the last implanted resistance to get through. Arceus didn’t bother wasting time to quell it, and levitated above to dodge it completely. If he squinted, he could see some kind of magic covering the deep sea abyss not too far away, but decided against it after he remembered his entrance  _last time_.

 

With the Mind Plate still in use, the guardian made use of his power and sank through the walls of the cave. The skinny white legs disappeared under the grayscale masses and pulled the rest of the body down with it until all of them could see nothing but inky black. Arceus continued to levitate himself downwards until a poorly-kept pathway came into view and he was able to stand. A formidable shortcut, but one he had used only once before.

 

After Arceus had released his concentration, the leader could only take one step forward before another magic wall hit him head on, giving both him and the birds a potent shock. The original one reeled back on instinct and almost tripped over his own hooves, the stones beneath him suddenly feeling like daggers. The electric shock coursed through the body like a wave, hitting the guardian in every weak point and shattering any train of thought he had conceived. In the brink attack, Arceus didn’t realize his Mind Plate had been knocked free, and that he had reverted back to his original form.

 

It took Arceus longer than expected to recover, and even after applying several healing moves his legs still shook and the great legend’s mind felt exhausted and overworked. Truth be told, the leader had no idea that a mere flimsy excuse for a shield would inflict  _so much damage_. Two crimson eyes warily looked up, trying and failing to focus in on what lies ahead. 

 

The spotty vision vanished the second a peck made an appearance on his golden wheel. Any agonizing thoughts of shock were wiped clear when he took into account the babes had been hit too. Gasping, his head swivelled around, legs tensing in fear of what he might see.

 

...Only for it to be a false alarm. All of them were there, and though their feathers were ruffled, they look strangely unaffected. Maybe tired, but fine. Arceus decided not to question it, praying it was just a stroke of luck. 

 

Damn it, he should have been more careful.

 

But strangely, it wasn’t the end to odd events that day. Not minutes later did a zap echo throughout the cavern walls and the path ahead of Arceus lit up with fireworks before dissolving instantly. A spell had been recalled by its owner, and now beckoned the God forward to continue. So it seemed the shield was not the only one of its kind.

 

Well, he had come this far. No sense in turning back.

 

The inner caves were eerie and damp, nothing like the well furnished tower perches up in what used to be the regal city of Ecruteak. Every pebble and rock crevice were drenched in a pitch black shadows that cloaked the nesting ground like ugly plumage, and if the heights had scared the birds than this would surely give them a collective heart attack. 

 

When he glanced warily back again (long into his walk), he found no disturbances. Two were even asleep. The aching feeling in his stomach subsided, and he shot the remaining female a smile. Her tiny cream feathers joyously lifted, and her heated belly increased in temperature. Even a casual observer would see she was a destined fire bird, maybe even capable of controlling the same flames as her sponsor. It was an added possibility, considering how Entei turned out.

 

The casual drips of water broke the worst of the silence as Arceus trudged through the unwelcoming stone of the islands. Unlike the native mountains in Sinnoh, here there were no crystals sprouting from the ground. It made navigating quite difficult, and he was forced to rely on the noise of moving water to make his way deeper.

 

Some of the mud here sucked at his pristine hooves, and though not out of place for a cave it was certainly out of place for someone as quirky as Lugia. Such an organizer like himself would never tolerate the disregard of the place, and it gave deeper insight to how far the legend had fallen from grace. The thought was as dark and damp as the rain clouds forming outside.

 

No more than ten minutes later did the four finally find the raging waters leading into Lugia's abode. Arceus could still see the skid and burn marks from the last time he had engaged Lugia with a voice of reason, and it scarred the beauty of this place with ease. No doubt it also ransacked Arceus' sense of judgement, and his knees trembled without his command. It wasn't too late to turn back now, the fairies would even lavish praise on him. Perhaps time would heal this wound. The birds would be happy with him, maybe even stronger with his blessing.

 

But he couldn't. The guilt that had chained him down before let his emotions get the best of him. He made a fatal mistake, but he had learned from it.  _This encounter would not end in violence_ , he determined.

 

The dark tunnel emerged to showcase a visual mirage of waterfalls and puddles. A grand shrine of water bordered the back end, the blue colours reflecting off of the walls with glittering abandon. It struck him senseless, even though he had been here earlier.

 

Above them, the sky twinkled menacingly. It looked relatively harmless, but he had learned something from his last break in. The glimmer of a forcefield much stronger than his own was pressing down, preventing anything, or anyone from entering. Courtesy of Rayquaza, he personally thought.

 

Deep in the shadows, no where close to the water, was Lugia. It was easy to tell because of the scaled hide and stark white colours that cast him away from the rough grip of the shadows. The shape of him was motionless, not even a tail twitch to give away his awareness. It’s almost creepy, and past fights didn’t make the sinister ambience feel any better.

 

That happened to be the moment little red cried out her song.

 

All in an instant, Lugia's head flew up to meet the unfamiliar cry. The amber eyes that were sapped of any love found a strange fondness when he recognized something beyond him. His pupils snapped to Arceus’ back, where the tiny babe was trying, and failing, to find a way off of her beacon's back.

 

"Lugia," Arceus greeted, nodding respectfully to his former right hand. The legend in particular was too befuddled by the balls of feather on the original legend's back to pay much attention to his previous commander.

 

"I would scream at you for coming back," Lugia rasped, "But I wouldn't want to wake the children you so foolishly brought here." Under the layers of walls built to protect himself, the beast let slip a fraction of fatherly instincts. He could cross off the possibility of Lugia going after them out of spite, it seemed.

 

Arceus cleared his throat. "Not even you would throw children."

 

"No," He confirmed bitterly, "I wouldn't. You're an exception. Take them off of your back and I'll show you what I can do to idiots that keep breaking into my home after I have told them to stay away."

 

He didn't want to give in to the dark promise, but the red bird wanted off of his back. Her talons, no sharper than that of a newborn Meowth's, ruffled his fur and left criss-crossing marks on his skin. She was barely fit to walk a small distance, let alone jump. It would only injure her legs and sprain the joint.

 

It didn’t stop her from leaping off of his shoulders the minute he bent his front legs and lowered himself. Her legs met the ground unsteadily, and she flopped forward gracelessly; it would be a sight of amusement under different circumstances. With no fear she recovered, and squeaked loud enough to wake her siblings upon catching a glimpse at the old legend across from her.

 

Lugia said nothing. There was nothing to say.

 

With vigour she bounced at him until he was close enough to give her a good sniff. True to her origins, she didn't shy away from the hot air blasted through his nostrils and seemed rather pleased with herself. Arceus waited calmly, preparing himself for the moment she looked him in the eyes and he found out the truth.

 

Another sniff, and it looked like the thought of it was sinking in. Though if Lugia suspected foul play on Arceus' part, he said nothing. The babe was still growing acquainted with the pebbles at her feet, and didn't give the bigger legend a chance to get a good look at her.

 

No, instead, he fixed his eyes on Arceus. "I have not seen anything like her in all my years and travels.  _Where_  did you find them, and  _why are they here_." The ending tone made it sound more like a statement than a question. Pushing down the challenge of authority, Arceus stepped forward unsteadily.

 

"I wanted to introduce you to them."

 

Lugia snorted. "Yes, but why. There’s not native here, nor are they recognizable from your craft. I don’t want to consider the thought of you stealing babies but if that is the case then you’re not getting out of here without a few more scars.” The surge of violence brought back unwanted memories, and Arceus couldn’t stop himself from putting on a defensive display for the young ones.

 

"I didn't steal them. They're yours." If this surprised Lugia, the beast didn't have any visible reaction. It seemed that if anything, his expression seemed to humour him, bitterness receding to its host.

 

"Ha ha, funny. You're almost as good at telling jokes as Rayquaza, but you've got some way to go." He glanced down at the babe. "I am not affiliated with this."

 

Arceus sauntered to the side, closer to the entrance and farther away from the deep ferocious rivers of the shrine. Partly because of the bombshell he was about to drop, and partly because the yellow bird was trying to join his red sister, and almost hopped to his fate in the deep puddles. To cease temptation, Arceus saw it as best to isolate them.

 

"Get a closer look." Lugia's muzzle scrunched up and his pupils tracked Arceus' movements with pricks of venom. When the other did nothing, his head reluctantly craned down. His maw opened, and his front teeth grabbed the back of the bird's tail.

 

Arceus bolted forward, but was stopped in his tracks by Lugia's magic. The powerful surge of energy crushed the leader’s lungs and tore his breathe free with enough vigour to make his body shake. Isolated from society or not, it was clear Lugia was only getting stronger over time.

 

"Oh calm your prickled fur, I'm not going to hurt a baby." The inflamed bird in question was yapping at Lugia in irritation, one creamy pink feather standing up on her backside. If he didn't know better, Arceus would assume she had taken offence to the action. Lugia on the other hand, was strangely calm, susceptible to whatever topic his opponent would bring up while he was distracted.

 

 

  
_It was time_. “I would assume any baby created in the image of Ho-Oh would be a baby of yours too.” And then, it happened. Lugia's eyes, that had been no more than mocking, were now bloodthirsty with anger. His tail slapped down against the rocks, the noise echoing throughout every cavern in the island.

 

 

" **What** ," His tail pointed at the baby bird, who was giggling at the display of the bird dragon ruffling his own feathers, “ **Did you say**."

 

"This is-"

 

Lugia roared, “Who do you think you are, coming in here with  **them** ,” He snarled at the nearest child, “Just to tell me that you’re dropping them off in my claws simply because you’re trying to recreate someone that doesn’t even exist anymore! You couldn’t even play kind, oh no. You couldn’t just make another counterpart because that wouldn’t cut deep enough. No, you decided, in your little Arceus world, that you were going to give them  **his eyes**!” His teeth glistened with saliva, spines raised up in the direction of the sky. His eyes burned brightly with the promise of psychic assault yet to come, and his whole silhouette lit up in gold streamers. If there was ever any indication to run from Lugia, this was it.

 

"I know they are, so let me explain-"

 

"You make me sick, thinking you can try to replace him like this. Do you have any respect for Ho-Oh, or me for that matter? Why, that would be asking too much of you wouldn’t it. You just want me under your leash again!”

 

"That’s not the reason I’m here, so please-”

 

“What is it that you think you know about  ** _Ho-Oh_** -” His tone was stressed to the point where the words were almost unidentifiable. 

 

" **Stop interrupting me** ," Arceus demanded, his hooves hitting the ground in one smooth motion. On command, his plates pulled themselves out from his wheel and circled him rhythmically. The two remaining birds gawked at the pretty colours. "Listen to me. I didn't make them to replace him, and they're  _not_  here to spite you."

 

"Then tell me," Lugia leaned forward, " **Why**."

 

"These three are not his, as in biologically. You know that it's impossible, so don't consider it. I made them. For you." Lugia's tail thrashed, and his mouth twisted in a piercing snarl. The red bird shrank back when the threatening gesture was aimed at her. Out of instinct, she cried out, pure terror cloaking her jolly tone.

 

Lugia stopped.

 

Arceus took the opportunity to put the girl's siblings down so if Lugia regained his rage and attacked, he wouldn't accidentally throw them with his magic. His back hoof lifted itself and pushed them back behind a rock that stole them from Lugia's sight.

 

"Lugia, just let me get her, please." He edged forward, but Lugia didn't budge. His eyes remained glued to the baby bird, still in shock. From where he was standing, Arceus swore he could hear her little heart beating twice as fast.

 

"You weren't there," Lugia muttered, repeating the same words he had yelled at Arceus the last time the God had visited, "You didn't see him, how he looked. The fire, the humans. Our tower..." He trailed off, the anger loosening its vicious hold.

 

The baby was still rattled, but wasn't chirping in distress. Lugia walked forward and leaned in close.

 

"You didn't see it, did you?" His voice was no louder than the drops of water deep inside the darkened tunnels. "No of course not. But your eyes, they're the same. I just never thought that fear would be pointed at me."

 

"She's not him Lugia," Arceus chided.

 

Lugia's long neck swung over to him, the gills on his neck flexing. "Just let me indulge in something for once!" He looked back at the bird, eyes softening when her curious look replaced the panic that had sparked.

 

He looked to be holding back tears, despite all of the worry and offence that still ran fresh. Not that Arceus could blame him, it was like looking at a copy of a dead man. Only then, after he had walked into the lion's den, did Arceus realize how traumatizing it was - how Uxie felt about this.

 

While Lugia was mesmerized in the eyes of his former counterpart, Arceus crept close, head lowered. "You know Lugia," He flinched back when Lugia's pale eyes glinted like knives, "Ho-Oh and you may have not had a chance, but that doesn't mean you can't start over. He's not gone forever, and I wanted you to know that."

 

He took a chance and went for it. While Lugia's barrier was weakened by his resolve, Arceus stepped into his personal boundaries and rubbed his flank against the scales of the dragon. Lugia bristled and tensed up, but didn't snap his jaws nor throw him away.

 

He continued, "They're not a replacement. They're someone to keep you company, remind you that there's something to live for. I went through something similar when I banished Giratina. I thought I could never forgive myself," He swallowed the bile building up, "And I leaned on Azelf, Mesprit, and Uxie. They were made to fill that empty void I couldn't explain. Maybe you'll find it's the same for you."

 

" _No_ ," Lugia whined, "I cannot love them.”

 

 

Distressed, Arceus lowered his head. “But why?”

 

“Because they’re too much like him! How am I supposed to love them when they represent the pain I’ve endured for moon cycles without end? How can I look them in the eyes and raise them when all they stand for is a memory of someone that I might never meet again? They will never be more to me than a copy. I cannot love them,” He sobbed, “Not like how I loved him.” One would never be able to tell this was the defensive monster that had been threatening Arceus earlier, and the sound of progress bleated loudly for the leader to hear.

 

 

"You don't have to," Arceus promised, "But I want you to at least meet them." He looked back at the other two siblings, hiding behind one stubborn boulder. "All of them."

 

He egged forth the final two birds, hearing their claws scratch against the rocky surface in resilience. Far more cautious, the siblings didn't approach Lugia initially. Their tail feathers quivered.

 

Grief clouding his eyes, Lugia cried for one of the first times since the accident. Walls of defence built up over decades shattered in seconds, leaving their master vulnerable and weak. Outside, the thunder boomed and shot off like a cannon. The cracks in the ceiling showcased a fantastic light show, and the wind picked up in a howl that sent the autumn leaves dancing.

 

Arceus pressed himself closer, sending waves of reassurance. How long had it been? His eyes hooded, and the trembling in his legs ceased. Next to his old friend, a piece of him returned. That sense of self Ho-Oh had taught him to carry and nurture along with Lugia’s fierce wisdom flooded back and hit him like a savage tidal wave.

 

"I'm sorry." It was two words, but the impact they had were jarring. Lugia took a deep breath in, lungs rattling. His eyes, once full of life were hollow - the only difference now being that it wasn't because of anguish.

 

Zapping noises filled the air, and an explosion of gold sent tiny balls of leftover psychic energy falling down on the sides of everybody in the room. A pitter-patter of rain on Arceus's hide told him that the force field above had vanished, leaving them open to the elements. The clouds were lazily drifting above, almost black as night and consumed with rainfall. Johto would be drenched once again.

 

"Why did I tell him to leave," Lugia choked, "I don’t blame him but- I want him back. I thought he would die if he stayed and because of it I doomed everyone. It’s my fault.  **It’s all my fault**! I should have done something! I should have killed those humans the moment they tried to touch him and our worshippers.”

 

"Don't say such things," Arceus numbly answered, somewhat awkwardly, "He's still out there. We'll find him. There’s no need to see revenge on humans that have been dead for over a century now."

 

He didn't know how much longer the two of them remained there, pressing against each other for warmth. The birds were having trouble keeping their eyes open, and found their way in-between Arceus' legs, trying to shield themselves from the wind that had picked up. No words were exchanged, but both of them went through the final stage of acceptance. This was all Lugia had left.

 

Still immobilized, Lugia didn't trace Arceus' thoughts of blame and denial that festered within by mindreading. He also didn't comment when the leader had torn himself from the unknowing embrace and trotted slowly to the mouth of the cave entrance. One baby bird, the blue female, tried to follow, but Arceus pushed her back with his magic, sending her to stand side by side the massive beast. Beside him, she looked even smaller, barely bigger than a single claw on the end of his legs. In response, she chirped out in distress, but didn't follow through on her fears.

 

There was an unspoken command. Keep them. They're yours. They're his.

 

Tail whisking away, the guardian escaped down the hallway and enveloped himself in a cloak of shadows. The worn down interior greeted him with false promises, but didn't beckon him forward. If he peered hard enough, he could see a few holes letting water dribble in, possibly caused by the outburst.

 

For the last time that morning, doubt clawed at the guardian's heart, whispering the promise of destruction in his wake if he chose to leave. As always, his confidence fell in, and a wary glance was cast at the depressing sight of the empty cavern. The waterfalls, from what he could see, were now saturated and void of life. It reeked of danger and tore more and more at the weakened state of Arceus' mind.

 

Head fuzzy, he didn't know that he had returned to the cave until his hooves hit a large stone and sent it tumbling into a puddle with a loud splash. Reluctantly, his delicate head peeked around the corner, tightening his aura close to his body so that Lugia wouldn't pick up on it. He felt bad not being able to trust the guardian, but he prioritized the babes first. Who knows if Lugia would let his inner shadow persuade him to harm them after Arceus was gone.

 

The sight was nothing of value. The birds hadn’t moved one inch. The red sister was hopping in place, trying to get the bigger creature’s attention, as he was still looking at nothing. The other sister was crouched by the claws of Lugia and covered lightly by one jagged wing that was draped over a rock. The final yellow brother was sleeping in front of all of them, not bothering to see what all the commotion was about.

 

It was almost paradise, the four of them there. The collection of colourful feathers visibly brightened up the place, adding that hopeful mumble of something good. Arceus sighed, he had done something right.

 

"You're stupid you know that right." Arceus bit his tongue. He’d spoke too soon.

 

The beast was now looking the red one in her glassy blue eyes, glare dictating and forceful. "You're foolish and stubborn and loud. Everyone noticed  **you**  when you walked in the room. That's who you are."

 

Tensing, Arceus bent down and prepared to bolt forward and hit Lugia out of the way if he tried to do so much as touch the thing-

 

The youth pecked Lugia's head, and both adults froze. When she got no ferocious or wailing reaction, she took it as permission to hoist herself up on the bridge of his head, close enough to the end of his maw to feel the hot air exhaled blasting her. Content, she chirped.

 

Her bravery was uncalled for, and was possibly damning. She didn't seem to care that she had just climbed a figurative mountain and faced the beast head on in a raging storm. There had been warnings, fear shown in her own creator, and she didn't take the hint.

 

Lugia laughed. No, not laughed, wheezed. Wheezed with little attempt to suck in air and save himself. Maybe the tears  _hadn’t_  been the breaking point. It was the act of one of the children personally invading with her presence that tipped the scales.

 

His whole body shook and his wings fell down, limp. The blue bird trilled in surprise and crawled out to join her brother. Lugia didn't care. His torso slumped over like a fallen tree and showed off scars gained from years ago. Spines toppled over and darkened, deadly still. The broken wing that never healed properly was twitching in remembrance. 

 

For a few moments there was nothing but laughter. Then the tears brimmed and fell, cascading down the face of the grief stricken legend. They passed the graying freckles and painted a look of misery that aged Lugia considerably.

 

The bird sat, chirped, and fluffed her belly out in pride.

 

Lugia sniffled, one last tear hanging on for dear life at the root of his jaw. A dying trill of his cried out, a question. She answered enthusiastically, voice as light and cheerful as her plumage.

 

With a croak, Lugia's mouth twisted into a small smile. The lonely sounds had ceased, and perhaps so had the pain.

 

 

"Well," He whispered, eyes captivated in some long lost illusion, "Aren't you a cheeky little thing."

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is certainly more confusing than the rest, but it marks a new series I'm doing that explains how every Legendary Pokemon came into being. Just in case it's not clear, Arceus creates the legendary birds in the direct image of Ho-Oh as a way to help Lugia cope with the disappearance of his beloved. They aren't Lugia or Ho-Oh's children, and the only connection they have is that they are directly modelled off of Ho-Oh. Lugia, as you'd expect, doesn't take this very well. He just wants everyone to leave him alone so that he can try to manage without someone by his side (Arceus breaks into his home a lot to chastise him).  
> Mesprit, Azelf, and Uxie's dialogue also might be hard to read. I have the translations on hand, so if there's a line that doesn't make sense, just ask! I plan to have official art done for this sometime soon, even if it's just a sketch.  
> One last thing (Goodness, I'm talking a lot), the birds haven't been named yet, which is why they are referred to by appearance. Red is Moltres, Blue is Articuno, and Yellow is Zapdos.


End file.
